Perhaps to Dream

Shakespeare, My Love, why is it when I read

Your words of love I feel so satisfied?

A crumb from ‘neath your table, oh so sweet!

My life complete, I ready now to die,

With no questions to linger, with no doubts,

Only the peace of slow and steady row.

I marvel at your knowledge and forethought.

If it be, grand, your words or my ego,

Yet your poem seems written just for me?

But, how could you do it? How could you know,

Here in my chaise with your words I would be,

Only five hundred years too late?

Dizzied by your words, the book drops plumb.

My heavy head falls back in deepest sleep,

And in this sleep of life what dreams do come.

Eyes open to a brighter light to peep,

And see you kneeling there, taking my hand

Over your palm and bring your face to kiss.

You tell me there should be a wedding band

Where your lips touch, to show the world our bliss.

I giggle at you, shaking now my head.

You smile, and stretch out with me on the bed.

I remind you I’m not the jew’lry kind.

You take your gallant nose and nuzzle me,

Whisp’ring, “That is exactly why I find

You so irresistible, and gently

Powerful, my wonderful little muse.

You’re the only one big enough to me—

Above the fray, the fame, and the abuse—

To give me room to be what I must be.”

I coyly smile, and kiss your mouth so fine,

Tracing my eyes down that classic jaw line.

“You were so right, you know,” I acquiesce.

“Your words have prov’d eternal, and so true—

Immortalized our love, how we said, ‘Yes,’

Surrendered all to love, and that not through!”

My pulse quickens as he touches tender,

Sparking my mind and throbbing through my soul.

E’en by body melts as it remembers,

Coming from pieces to an entire whole,

“For here you are, alive and well it seems,

Loving sweetly, vividly in my dreams!

Suffer me not to leave me when I wake!

Be with me as your words are in my heart,

Or, to the next dimension, pray thee take

Me with you! Let me ever be near it—

Your self—your essence! All of you there is!

I have felt deep pain from being a part,

Like half myself was gone to miss your kiss—

Born in this world with only half a heart!”

I feel your tongue part ribs to pierce my chest,

And wake without you, clasping barren breast!

I miss you Love. It makes me want to cry

To grasp the definitions of your words

While others have to struggle and to try—

The simplest meanings I have ever heard.

I shake my head and hope my bitter tears

Don’t fall to smudge your writing on the page.

It only took me but five hundred years

To see the love, humility and rage—

The all in all of me you so compose:

Mid-summer’s night dream and naming the rose…

-jenn long